


So long, we'd become the flowers

by whynotcherries



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: After Aelin's mortal form... dies?, Afterlife, Canon Compliant, F/M, Idiots in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29258082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whynotcherries/pseuds/whynotcherries
Summary: Aelin's mortal form dies and Celaena is finally able to be with Sam.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Sam Cortland
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	So long, we'd become the flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all seemed to enjoy the last thing I wrote for Sam/Celaena and I've had this idea for a while. I hope I did this idea some sort of justice, if not I deeply, deeply apologize! I'm still getting the hang of writing these characters (and honestly, I've switched up my own writing style for these, too). Thank you so much for reading!

She woke up unsure of where she was.

She remembered clasping hands with the old King of Adarlan, and Dorian had been there, and then there had been a flash of light. Now… well, it wasn’t the ground in the woods that she was laying on.

No, this was soft. Light, like a cloud, like she could stay there forever and it would remain the perfect amount of sunlight and warmth. 

“Well, I hate to admit it, Celaena, but I missed your sorry ass.”

She flung herself upwards at the sound of that voice, _Sam’s_ voice. He was sitting, leaning against a building she hadn’t taken note of yet, pulling apart the petals of a flower and grinning over at her. Completely intact. No scars, no signs of any sort of previous _torture…_

She threw herself at him, nearly knocking them both sideways with the force of it.

How she ended up in this sort of afterlife, with no burning fires or brimstone, she had no clue. If it’d last, if the gods would realize they’d made a mistake, she didn’t know either. But she had time now, time she hadn’t appreciated enough when she’d had it the first time.

“I missed you,” she said, and although she wasn’t not one to mumble, she was more insistent on holding onto him, on making up for this past year and a half away from him than she is on speaking clearly.

She could feel him smiling into her neck, and he squeezed her tighter than anyone else had ever dared before he let go. She held on for an extra second, breathing in the smell of whatever soap he’d started using -- assuming those in the afterworld even needed to use soap; she supposed she’d have to ask later.

When she let go, she remained inches away from his face, and as he opened his mouth to start talking, she interrupted. 

“I missed you, and I’m sorry,” she forced herself to look him in the eye and not start _crying on him_ , gods above…

He lifted his hand to the side of her face, “Celaena,” he started, and she just shook her head, swallowing thickly as she continued.

“I should’ve gone looking for you sooner, I should’ve known that it was a trap,” her eyes danced around a little bit as she tried to find more words that she’d had in her mind since he’d been gone, “I’m sorry I didn’t let you use the _gods-damned_ expensive soap, and that I didn’t tell you that I love you before-” she stopped herself then, just to gauge the look in his eyes, to see whether or not she should go on.

He looked beyond struck, from joy or shock or something more along the lines of rage, she couldn’t tell. It was enough to make her wait, to look for any other change in expression.

He took in a breath, his eyes filling with what could only be some sort of relieved bliss, “You love me,” he breathed -- not a question, she noted -- and silver began to line the bottom of his eyes.

She nodded, meeting his eyes once again, “Of course,” she whispered, not out of fear, but the feeling deep inside her that said that she might overwhelm her soul with the power of it if she raised her voice.

“Well, that’s good to know,” he chuckled, letting some tears fall. Celaena wiped the tears away as soon as they fell, “I mean, I knew -- I don’t want you to think I didn’t know. I just… it’s better to hear it from you than to hear it from… well, you,” he shrugged.

She nodded. She figured he’d been watching, this whole time. There had been too many instances where the presence she’d noted had felt too much like him to be just in her head. Far too many.

They sat together in silence for a moment, eventually embracing again. 

“I don’t blame you for it, Celaena,” he whispered once they let go, “not for any of it. I wouldn’t have had you come with me even knowing what would happen. Not in a million years,” he took her hands in his.

She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his, “I still…” she sighed, shaking her head against his.

He knew better than to argue.

“Well,” he mumbled, and she pulled back a little bit, “speaking of your guilt over certain deaths,” he started, and she straightened her back, squeezing his hands gently, “you’ll never guess who else is here,” he smiled.

She smiled as she took a deep breath in, as if she was inhaling joy, “Nehemia,” she breathed. 

He nodded, “and Ben and Wesley,” he added, sighing at the face she made at the latter, despite herself, “c’mon, he’s not that bad.” 

She looked down, shaking her head, “I suppose I do owe him some debts,” she shrugged, “but he still smells like cheese.”

Sam let out a cackle at that, playfully pushing her back a little bit, “You’re _awful_ ,” he laughed, shaking his head at her.

She was beaming at him as the laughter died out and he went on, “There are some more people here, too. Some of your ancestors, and…”

“My parents,” she nearly sobbed, and he nodded, reaching over to touch her face once more before standing, offering a hand to her as he got to his feet.

He wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her around the shoulders as she straightened out her clothes, steadying herself in her mortal form -- the one she’d wear from now until the end of time.

“Well,” he said, looking over at her, “let’s go join the rest of them, shall we?”


End file.
